


A Sunday Kind of Love

by LyricalCord



Series: Baby, Seasons Change but People Don't [2]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Acceptance, Alcohol Abuse, Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coming Out, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, mild depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7167776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalCord/pseuds/LyricalCord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon meet when Dick is 17 and Lewis is 18, the summer before their senior year of high school. They meet at a summer seminar at West Point - Dick, eager and ecstatic, and Lew, angry and resentful.</p><p>They shouldn't have worked as far as friends go, but they did.</p><p>INCOMPLETE, CURRENTLY REWRITING!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Complete

**Author's Note:**

> title ( _A Sunday Kind of Love_ ) taken from Frankie Valli and the Four Season's album, _The 4 Seasons Enterain You_  
>  song can be found here [xxx](http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CBJVL_DDFh8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I thought you loved me.'  
> 'No, it was only fun.'  
> 'When we stood there, closer than all?' 'Well, the harvest moon  
> Was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head.'  
> 'That made you?'  
> 'Yes.'  
> 'Just the moon and the light it made  
> Under the tree?'  
> 'Well, your mouth, too.'  
> 'Yes, my mouth?' ... 'I loved you. I thought you knew  
> I wouldn't have danced like that with any but you.'  
> 'I didn't know, I thought you knew it was fun.'  
> 'I thought it was love you meant.'  
> 'Well, it's done.'  
> 'Yes, it's done.'  
> '...And are girls fun, too?'  
> 'No, still in a way it's the same.  
> It's queer and lovely to have a girl...'  
> 'Go on.'  
> 'It makes you mad for a bit to feel she's your own,  
> And you laugh and kiss her, and maybe you give her a ring,  
> But it's only in fun.'  
> 'But I gave you everything.'  
> 'Well, you shouldn't have done it.'
> 
> \- In the Orchard by Muriel Stuart

i'm not orphaning or deleting this work but lmao, i'm trying to rewrite all this shit and have it maybe make more sense... i still want to tie it in with my other work but at the moment, that is also getting put on permanent pause until i can rework everything

i'm gonna be out of town for a week this month, which means no work, which also means extra free time to write! so hopefully i can get something done...

marking this as COMPLETE until i can figure this stuff out because i really don't want to delete it


	2. Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...Tell me. How many people have you ever loved?”  
> “Nobody.”  
> “Not even me?”  
> “Yes, you.”  
> “How many others really?”  
> “None.”  
> “How many have you—how do you say it?—stayed with?”  
> “None.”  
> “You’re lying to me.”  
> “Yes.”  
> “It’s all right. Keep right on lying to me. That’s what I want you to do..."
> 
> \- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the main story does not have to be read to understand this at all - i have to tried to make it its own separate entity as much as i possibly could while still keeping it within the same universe
> 
> also, unlike the main story line, this will have more specific dates because we will be traveling from the summer of 1998 all the way to fall of 2015. there will be a few gaps in time that will be discussed in the next chapter
> 
> i have no idea what it feels like to be high or drunk so just go with it ???
> 
> I realize that there are some things that i could take out of here but removing them would mean I would have to rewrite large sections of the story, which isn't something I want to do. so now i just gotta locate my hand written copies of the next chapter and type it all out and get everything situated 
> 
> anyway, enjoy  
> edit: I'm sure they seem very OOC but they will be closed to their actual characteristics in the next chapter  
> \---
> 
> un grand merci à mon cœur pour lire et me encourageant à travers ce long voyage

**_I want a Sunday kind of love_ **  
**_A love to last, past Saturday night_ **  
**_I want to know it's more than love at first sight_ **  
**_I want a Sunday kind of love._ **

 

* * *

 

**_(Summer 1998)_ **

Dick shifts his bag from his left shoulder to his right as his mom ran through the list of essentials. Two weeks worth of clothes - shirts, tanks, underwear, and shorts (cargo and nylon) - toiletries, a nice suit (that Dick would press and hang as soon as he got to the campus), a notebook, and pens.

“Here’s your ticket, baby,” his mother chides and kisses his cheeks. “Be careful, call when you get there.”

“I will, promise,” he smiles at her and gives her a tight hug. He shakes his father’s hand and hands his bag to the TSA people. Dick says goodbye a second time and went to get himself checked in for his flight.

He sits down near his terminal and brings his knees to his chest, fiddling with his ticket. Dick couldn't deny that he wasn’t nervous. He was about to take a major step in his life. West Point had been a lifelong dream for him and his first step towards that dream was starting on Monday. Dick sighs and drops his feet to the ground and got up, milling around the area. He buys himself a book, something to read on the flight to New York. The flight began boarding after that and Dick takes his seat near the back of the plane. He cracks the book open and starts reading.

\---

Dick calls his parents when he gets to West Point, assuring them that he’s fine and that he’ll call them when he’s at the Harrisburg airport at the end of the seminar.

The counselors had put him in a dorm room with three other boys - Lewis Nixon, Jacob Carlson, and Victor Buchan. Dick drops his things on the empty bunk underneath the one that Nixon had lain claim to earlier that day. Buchan, the blond boy with a boyish face and brown eyes, tells Dick that Nixon isn't very nice and that he smokes. Carlson rolls his eyes and Dick shrugs his shoulders, saying that it's not any of his business what Nixon does.

Carlson is the tallest of the four boys, standing well over six foot five. His brown hair is cropped and pushed away from his face in short spikes. He’s got thin lips and angular features, brown eyes that are sharp and narrowed. Buchan, the blond, is the shortest, at five foot eight. He and Carlson become friends almost immediately and take to teasing each other with familiarity in matter of days. Nixon, who stands between five foot ten and six foot, is a mysterious raven-haired teen with red lips and an already apparent addiction to cigarettes. He’s broad shouldered and handsome, his hair long in the front. He combs it back every morning, a generous helping of gel keeping the black strands in place. Nixon’s humor is different, a sarcastic drawl on every little word. (Dick can't help but like the way it rolls so easily off the other teen’s tongue.)

Dick, in all his redheaded glory, is lean and muscular. His face is freckled as are his shoulders, arms, back, and knees. He stands above both Buchan and Nixon, at six foot one, reaching six foot two in his dress shoes. He’s as straight as they come, refined and gentlemanly - though having no formal training, just simple manners taught to him by his parents.

The four of them get along well enough and Dick particularly likes the bored looks that Nixon sends his way when they’re sitting through lectures during their classroom hours. Most of the instructors are surprised at how well Dick and Nixon get along. They’re complete polar opposites - Nixon, brash and witty, while Dick is conservative and helpful.

 ---

It rains their next to last night at West Point. The thunder is loud and booming, rain pouring out of the sky in thick sheets. Dick catches Buchan jumping from time to time, whenever the thunder cracks. The lightning is violent and constant, flashing into their dark room after curfew is called and the lights - shut off in the main hall. Lewis curls his tongue around the filter of unlit cigarette, cursing the rain. He tosses the object away as the thunder crashes again, making the building shake and shudder and causing Buchan to jump again. He tries to hide it but they all know that he's scared. Carlson rolls over in his bunk, sighing as he pulls his sheets up to his chin. He mutters a goodnight and Buchan quickly wraps himself in his own sheets. The two fall into an uneasy sleep, rain slapping hard against the window pane.

Lewis cracks his neck tiredly and drops down beside Dick on the lower bunk. “Some storm,” he comments, arms behind his head.

“Yeah.”

“You ever seen one like this before?” Lewis asks, cocking his head in Dick’s direction.

He shakes his head in the dark and then realizes that Nixon probably can't see his face. It's pitch dark in the room, lighting up only when the flash of lightning erupts beyond their window. He wonders if Nixon is looking at him the same way he does when he sees the female trainees go by. “No,” he replies, flushing a little at his own foolishness. Lewis wouldn't be interested in that type of thing, he thinks, let alone someone as disgusting and ugly as me.

Dick had never figured himself as one to be vain. To count every little head that turned his way in accordance with his looks. He wasn't practically unattractive but he wasn't a head-turner. Lewis, though, he caught the eye of many. Girls and quite possibly boys as well. Or maybe just one boy. He was dark and charming, hair perfectly coiffed, intelligent to boot - a brick of a man who could smoke and drink and fight. He could bare his teeth at Dick, slick with blood after a grueling brawl, and Dick would call him beautiful.

“I have,” Nixon says after a few minutes, the rain finally slowing to a dull roar. “A hurricane - 1995, Felix - if I remember correctly. My friends and I were at a beach house when the rain hit; swells coming off the water were huge.”

“Musta been one for the history books,” Dick replies. He remembered hearing about Felix - category 4 hurricane that killed about 9 people. He’d been about to enter his first year of high school. “It never touched down though.”

“Sure was and no, never touched down.”

Dick shifts in his bunk, freeing his arm from between his body and the wall, pushing himself to sit up and drag his hands through his red hair. He kicks the blankets away, feeling too hot as he lies back - one arm behind his head, the other on his stomach. Lewis is watching him in the dark. He can practically feel the other boy’s brown eyes tracking his every movement.

They lay like that, side by side, the rain picking up as the thunder booms overhead. Lewis watches him in the dark. It's a long time before the raven speaks, voice breaking the calm between them. It always amazed Dick how their silences were comforting - not awkward and choking like they should be.

“I wish I had died that night,” Nixon whispers.

“Don't say that Nix,” he turns his head to look at him. His friend’s eyes are wide in the dark and somehow he’s scooted closer without Dick even realizing it. A glimmer of something shines in his black eyes, illuminated by helpful flashes of lightning. Dick can't place what it is - sadness, maybe; he can’t tell. He's not very good at reading Nixon.

“You don't get it, Dick,” he says, voice low and taking on a raspy quality. “You don't know what it's like being told how your life is supposed to go from day one. To have every decision made for you.” He clamps his mouth shut and presses closer. “You don't understand what it's like, going from day to day, wondering if you'll ever be free from a life you never even wanted. You've never had something like that forced upon you. To be born into an aristocratic life, built upon by years of destructive companies and poisonous greed. You're so wonderfully ignorant to it all, Dick.”

“Ignorant?”

Lewis licks his lips, the glimmer in his eyes returning and Dick watches him, watches the glimmer turn cold and sad. Hopelessness, Dick thinks.

“You're the only person that I've ever met who doesn't look at me like I'm different than him.”

“Well, you're certainly different Nix - “

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” Lewis cuts him off, grabbing the hand that's resting on his stomach and it sends chills down Dick’s spine. “You're not ignorant. That was the wrong word. You're… You're perceptive. You don't let societal factions assert how you're supposed to perceive or treat people. You…” He trails off and clears his throat, eyes on their clasped hands. “Dick, you look at me like I'm an actual person. Not some aristocratic snob who’s bound for Yale next summer for the sole purpose of being and consorting with other aristocratic snobs.”

“Lew…” He whispers in the dark and it’s soft and pleading and Dick - he doesn't even care that it sounded that way because Nixon’s mouth is brushing his and their hands thread together, a gasp echoing in the quiet.

It’s a chaste press and then it’s over, Lewis is pulling back, eyes closed. Dick’s heartbeat is going a little faster than it was before, the thrill of being kissed by this other boy had sent chills down his spine. He lets out a shuddering breath and untangles their hands, chewing his lip.

“Goodnight Dick,” Lew murmurs as he slips out, hauling himself into his own bunk.

“Goodnight Nix,” he replies to the dark. He tugs his thin sheet up and over his shoulder, lying on his side, facing the wall. He closes his eyes, the rain beating against the window pane.

\---

Dick wakes in the morning to sharp raps on their door. It opens, one of their instructors - a Naval sergeant - pokes his head in. He sits up, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Up an’ at ‘em, gentlemen,” he greets. “Morning run’s been canceled. Breakfast at 0630.” The door shuts and the officer goes to bang on the next door.

“Stupid pricks…” Nixon mutters above him as he hops down. He grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt, disrobing quickly and tugging his clothes on in the dark. He snags his lighter and cigarettes off his desk, leaving with his shirt rucked up in the back and his feet shoved in his sneakers.

Buchan rolls off his bunk and onto the floor with a groan. Carlson drops down and tugs his blond friend up, ushering him to the dresser as Dick smooths his sheets out. He makes Nixon’s bed and gathers his last set of clothes, slipping out of the room to find a hot shower.

He showers in the stinging water and towels off, skin pink. It makes the freckles on his cheeks pop. He slips his white tee on and then his boxers and cargo shorts, sighing. He exits the showers, bumping into Nixon. The dark haired teen flashes him a smirk, brushing past him and into the showers.

They meet again at breakfast, Dick sitting across from Nixon next to one of the windows. Nixon dumps creamer and sugar into his coffee, stirring it together with his spoon. Dick watches him, his own hand dragging his spoon through already soggy cereal.

“About last night -” Dick starts but Nixon cuts him off with a glare.

“Not here.”

“Then where?” He glares back.

“In the airport, before we go our separate ways,” Nixon sighs into his coffee, watching Dick through his eyelashes. “...You mad about what happened?”

“No.”

“Good.” He smirks, swallowing a mouthful of the tan liquid.

They finish breakfast in relative silence, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the other teens. Nixon watches them and Dick watches Nixon. He loves looking at him. After breakfast and morning exercises - classroom study for two hours and then physical activity until lunch.

Lunch is ham and cheese sandwiches in the courtyard. Nixon lays sprawled out beside him in the grass, Carlson and Buchan sitting on the bench a few feet away. Dick shreds blades of grass, building a pile on the other’s chest. Nixon’s watching him through hooded eyes. They've taken on a questioning gaze but he keeps his lips pressed in a thin line, studying his redheaded companion.

Once lunch is over, the four of them retreat to their dorm room for their things. Nixon stuffs his things into his suitcase, not bothering to fold anything. Buchan and Carlson do the same but Dick packs his things away nicely and Nixon laughs at him, muttering something about Dick being too proper for his own good. He cracks a wry smile at that and pushes away the thought of how beautiful Nix’s laugh had been.

They board their respective buses and Nixon drags Dick to the back of the bus, pushing him into the window seat and sitting himself down in the aisle seat. Dick shifts a little, duffle between his legs as Nixon slouches beside him, arms crossed over his chest. It's loud in the bus and Dick wishes he hadn't been pulled to the back where the noise irritates him and makes him grouchy. Nixon seems to suffering from the same irritation and Dick takes that as a win.

The buses pull away from West Point and Nixon bounces his leg. Dick stares out the window, trying to think about how he’s going to spend the rest of his summer - running, probably. Conditioning before cross country season seems like the only thing he could really do. If his friends invited him out to the Jersey shore, he’d probably deny the invitation out of fear.

 _Fear of what?_ He asks himself, _or is it a fear of whom?_

He doesn’t have any reason to fear Nixon. They’re friends, aren’t they? Maybe close acquaintances is a better term for them. Friendships just don’t happen over a two week time period. They take months - sometimes years - to form. Nixon wouldn’t really want to be friends with him after this. They’re too different.

And Dick hardly believes that Nixon is gay.

The kiss - Dick tells himself - had been accidental. An experiment.

Nixon hadn’t liked it and he never would.

He’s pulled from his reverie when Nix taps his knee with his pointer and index fingers, smiling that wry smile of his, a soft look in his eyes that Dick has never seen before. He feels himself smile back and that makes the raven haired teen grin.

“You ever been to Jersey?” Nixon asks.

“When I was a kid,” Dick replies, turning his upper body to face Nixon more fully.

“You think you might want to come down during the summer?”

Dick hums, “I don't know, Jersey’s not a place for a country boy like me.”

“Well neither is New York,” Nix rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but it's _New Jersey.”_

Nixon chuckles, shaking his head. “You going to apply for West Point?”

“Yes,” Dick smiles at him. “Penn State, Notre Dame, and Cornell.”

“Ivy League? Thinking of becoming like me?”

He lets out a short chuckle, “Now that would be a nightmare.”

They talk and laugh amongst themselves for the rest of the bus ride. When they get to the airport, they're momentarily split up as they get their bags checked and tickets printed. They meet up after they’ve gotten to the terminal and sit next to each other. Nixon waves a book at him.

“Here,” he smiles, “for the flight.”

Dick takes the book and runs his fingers over the cover, _"A Farewell to Arms?_ Thanks, Lew.”

“It's my copy so, y’know,” He trails off, scratching at the back of his neck.

“I’ll mail it to you,” Dick pulls a pen out of his pocket and pats his pockets for his wallet. His wallet appears in his hands a few minutes later and he flips it open looking for scratch paper.

“You can just write it in the back cover, Dick,” Lew tells him and he nods.

“You sure?”

“It's an old copy, I don't mind.”

Dick uncaps the pen with his thumb and opens to the back cover. He carefully scrawls Lew’s address and caps the pen, smiling softly. “Thank you,” he says again.

“Yeah, no problem,” he returns the smile and looks out at the terminal - it's unusually empty for the time of day. “About last night…”

“It's fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Nixon nods and leans back in the chair, fingers threaded together across his abdomen. Dick stows his pen and wallet in his pockets and carefully slides his ticket between the pages of Nixon’s book. They sit in silence for the remaining minutes before their respective flights start their boarding process. Dick runs the tips of his fingers over the cover and licks his lips.

The intercom clicks on calling for the next flight to New Jersey - Lew’s flight - and the raven haired teen sighs, “That's me.” He stands and stretches his arms up. He turns to his redheaded friend, an easy going smile on his lips and Dick thinks it's the first real smile he's ever seen on Nixon’s face. Dick stands to shake his hand and Nixon asks, “Going my way?”

“Maybe another time,” he replies and Nixon squeezes his hand firmly before dropping it.

“See you around, Dick.”

“See you.”

Nixon turns on his heel and heads toward his gate, hands shoved in his pockets. Dick watches him get his ticket scanned and finally tears his eyes away when the other disappears into the sea of people boarding the flight. He takes Nixon’s book and heads to his own gate. Dick sits there for another half hour before his flight is called. He gets on his plane and flies to Harrisburg where he calls his parents. It's late at night and he buys himself a sandwich with a bottle of water and a Hershey bar which he eats as he waits for his parents and sister. It takes them nearly forty minutes to get to Harrisburg and Dick smiles tiredly at them when they get out of their green Sedan to hug him lovingly. They drive for an hour to get home and when they reach their farmhouse, Dick heads upstairs to his bedroom and sleeps until the sun is high in the sky.

\---

Halfway through June, Dick finishes _A Farewell to Arms_ and holds the book in his hands. He misses Lew. He sits down at the desk in his room and pulls out a sheet of lined paper from some drawer and a pen. He drafts a letter to his friend. Dick tells him what the farm is like and what he does most days. He tells Nixon about the book, asking questions about the characters and about Hemingway’s style of writing. He hopes that his friend can answer his questions. He grabs one of the books from his three shelves, _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_ and sighs. He wonders if Nixon has ever read it.

Dick slips downstairs, the letter tucked away in the book Nixon had given him to read. “Mom?” He calls out.

“In the kitchen, dear.”

He enters the kitchen fiddling with the corner of the cover and he asks, “Can I borrow the truck? I need to go into town.”

His mother looks up from where she's sitting at the kitchen table, coupons littered around her. She purses her lips and sets her scissors down, folding her hands on top of the other. “I don't see why not,” she says, getting up. His mother fishes for the keys in the drawer next to the fridge and hands them to him. “Do you mind going to the store for me while you're out? We need some milk and a few apples. Maybe some flour.”

“The gold seal one?”

“Yes.”

Dick nods and kisses her cheek, “I’ll be back soon.” He tugs his sneakers on and heads out, driving into town.

He gets to the post office and walks inside, grabbing a shipping envelope. He takes out a pen and scrawls Lew’s address on the front and tacks on his own on the corner of the envelope. He slips the books in and seals the envelope with clear packing tape. Dick waits in line for a few more minutes before he's standing in front of the clerk, handing over the package.

“New Jersey, huh? A friend, Richard?” The woman, Claire, asks with a smile. Her greying hair is tied back in a tight bun on the back of her head and her nails are painted a delicate pink color. Dick offers a tight smile in return.

“Yes, I'm returning something they left with me.”

She hums and her fingers click against the counter as the package is weighed and calculated in the computer. “How’s your mother? I haven't seen her since Christmas. She usually sends things out to her niece in Ohio around this time,” Claire comments, clicking lazily at the options.

Dick shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not sure. I haven't really seen her at home. She got assigned new hours at the hospital.”

“Oh that must be wearing everyone out, not having her home. Don't you and Helen help her with anything?”

“I cook and help in the stables and Helen does the laundry and cleans the house,” He replies, tugging his wallet out as Claire begins to ask him about insurance and shipping details. “Just the regular should be fine and… No insurance.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Claire finishes entering in the information and takes the money that Dick hands her. She counts out ten dollars in change and gives it to him with a wrinkly smile. “Have a good day, Richard. Tell your mother I said hi.”

“Will do, goodbye Mrs. Tatum.”

He leaves the post office and heads to the store, buying what his mother asked and also snagging a few bags of chocolate covered pretzels because it’s the summer and he’s been craving sweet and salty foods since he got back from West Point.

\---

And that’s how the summer goes. Dick and Lewis exchange letters and books, sometimes even sending photos of where they live. Lewis mails pictures of the coast, the dark waves crashing against flat gray rocks. He manages to send Dick a few of himself and he posts them in his room on the wall next to pictures of his school friends. Dick sends pictures of flowers and the cherry trees that line the property - he even sends one of him and his sister, Helen, picking sour cherries off the branches during the harvest in late June.

Dick’s thoroughly surprised that when he gets his next letter from Lewis - one that arrives halfway through July - has only one line of Lew’s slanted writing on it that says, _I’m going to kiss you under that tree someday._

Despite what Dick has told himself - that Lew isn’t like him, that he doesn’t like men - he can’t help but savor the giddy feeling that he gets from reading Lew’s promise to him.

 

* * *

 

 

**_(Summer 1999)_**

Dick pulls his cap off his head as everyone else throws theirs up into the air. It’s not like he isn’t excited to graduate - he really is - but he just wishes Lew could’ve been there. He smiles at his friends. Alice wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug and presses a kiss to his cheek. Dick wipes the pink smudge of lipstick off his cheek and weaves his way through the crowd to find his parents and sister. They hug and congratulate him and Helen sprays him with blue and pink silly string. Dinner is a quite affair at a fancy restaurant and when it's over, Dick changes into shorts and a tee and drives himself to Project Graduation where he stays from 10PM to 6AM. He gets himself home and goes to bed.

In the morning, Dick wakes to a bright bedroom - the sun high in the sky outside. He frowns, brows furrowed in confusion as he gets up, fumbling to attach his watch to his wrist. Dick pulls the sheets up on his bed, smoothing the wrinkles out. He tugs on a pair of dirty jeans and heads downstairs, bare feet thumping softly on the wooden stairs.

He's greeted with the sound of laughter as he comes into the kitchen, his red hair rucked up and wife beater clinging to his skin. His eyes catch Helen’s and then his mother’s before landing on Lew’s dark eyes, mirth clouding his eyes.

“Nixon,” he breathes, a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

“Winters,” Nixon replies.

“What - what are you doing here?”

“Visiting,” Nix answers and excuses himself, getting up from the table, and slipping past Dick to head to the back screen door, hand already pulling a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. The redhead follows him outside and watches Nixon lean against the side of the house as he lights the end of a cigarette, taking a long drag.

“I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but, how long are you staying?” Dick asks, bracing himself against the railing of the porch, hands gripping the wood.

Nixon’s eyes are steady on him and he stares back. “However long you want, Dick.”

 _Forever_ , Dick almost answers but doesn't. He offers a shrug in return. “I suppose I can put up with you for a few weeks.”

“Just a few weeks?”

“Maybe a month or two,” his thin lips twitch up into a smile that is easily returned with a wide grin. Lew grins like the Chesire cat. All teeth and mirthful, teasing eyes. It makes Dick’s knees weak and he’s so thankful for the railing behind him. His hands squeeze the wood tightly. Lew blows out smoke through his lips and Dick waves his hand at the cloud with a sigh. “That's a filthy habit.”

“Would you rather I smoke pot?” Lew teased, moving to stand beside Dick. He takes another long drag, blowing out smoke rings.

“I'd rather you didn't smoke at all.”

“An argument for another day,” He replies, stubbing the half-smoked cigarette out on his Zippo. “You gonna show me round town?”

“You wanna get off your high horse?” Dick laughs, shoving playfully at him.

“Well are you?”

“After I shower. We can grab breakfast or lunch - whatever they're serving now - at the diner.”

“Lunch, then,” Nixon follows Dick back inside and up the stairs, hands in his pockets when he steps into his friend’s room. “Your mom said I could stay in the guest room.”

“What? No, you can stay in here. The bed’s big enough for two and honestly, the last time we had people over - I’m almost positive they, well,” he blushes and wrenches his drawer open, searching for clothes.

Nixon laughs and nods and begins waltzing around the room, pursing his lips at the bookshelves. There’s a box tucked away on the top shelf, little trophies and a completed Rubix cube to accompany it. Most of the other shelves are full of books - test prep books, manuals, literature ranging from Bradbury to Kennedy to Seuss and Nixon smiles when his eyes catch the spine of a Hemingway title tucked beside George Orwell’s _1984_.

“So you bought it, huh?”

“Bought what?” Dick’s now wrenching his window curtains open, tugging the closed window open.

“ _A Farewell to Arms._ ”

“Oh, yeah - yeah, I did,” He turns and smiles at Lew, the raven plucking a random novel out.

“ _Paradise Lost_ , really?” He shakes his head and replaces it, moving to trail his fingers over the top of Dick’s desk.

“It was a gift,” Dick says and gathers his clean clothes off the dresser where he’d put them. “I’m going to shower - it's across the hall - away from the stairs. Go ahead and bring your bag to my room. I’ll be done soon.”

Nixon nods, eyes studying the faces on Dick’s wall and the redhead flees the room, hurrying to the bathroom. He showers and brushes his teeth, combing his hair out of his face with his hands. He returns to an empty room but Nixon’s duffle bag now sits beside his dresser and he smiles at it before heading back downstairs.

Nixon’s dark head of hair looks comical next to his mother and sister’s blonde locks. Dick clears his throat and Nixon smiles at them and glides over to his redheaded friend.

“We'll be back for dinner, mom,” Dick kisses her cheek and they stumble out of the house, Nixon sliding a pair of aviators on his nose.

Dick drives them to the local diner. It's styled like the 1950s and has shiny records hanging from the walls in shadowboxes. The checkered floors gleam and the music playing is old-timey and it makes Nixon snort as he fits his aviators on his head. They sit next to one of the windows in a powder blue booth and white table top. A waitress brushes by, dropping menus down as she heads to the back.

“You come here often?” Lew asks, scratching at the slight stubble on his jaw.

“As of late? It was for study dates, mostly. We used to come here a lot when I was kid,” answers Dick, picking up a menu. “A milkshake sounds amazing right now.”

Lew copies him, studying the menu, “They actually sell malts?”

“I've never had one. Wouldn't know if they're good or not.”

Lew hums and then gnaws on his bottom lip, rubbing his thumb nails against one another. “I want flapjacks. Can they make me flapjacks even though it's lunch?”

“They’ll make you whatever you ask,” Dick purses his lips. “I’ll probably get an omelette. Their three cheese and mushroom is to die for.”

Their waitress comes back then and smiles at them. “Richard, good to see you again. What can I get for you and your friend?”

“I'll have the three cheese and mushroom omelette with a cup of coffee and a water,” Dick smiles up at her, menu in hand. She scrawls it down.

“And you - ?”

“Lewis, and I’d like a stack of flapjacks, maple syrup, side of extra crispy bacon, a plate of fries, and a coke.”

She takes their menus. “You got it. I'll be right back with your drinks, boys.”

“Coke with breakfast?” Dick questions.

Lewis shrugs, saying, "Technically, it's lunch time", as a strand of hair escapes from beneath his aviators, falling against his brow. He doesn't seem bothered by it, just leans on the table with his arms crossed. “So, Penn State.”

Dick mirrors his posture and says, “So, Yale.”

“Family alma mater,” Lew answers with a sneer. He shifts back, plucking a sugar packet from its frosted glass caddy. He tears it open and tips his head back, the sugar crystals cascading into his open mouth. He mumbles around the mouthful, the sugar crunches under his teeth,“I'm double majoring in Economics and Psychology.”

“Are you going to become a shrink?”

“No,” Lew fiddles with another sugar packet. “I don't really know what I'm going to do after school. My father - he wants me to take over the company. It's kind of a tradition.”

“I never took you for a traditionalist,” Dick says as the waitress comes back with their drinks. She places creamer packets and a bottle of half-and-half on the table.

“I’m not but I don't really have anything else lined up for me, y’know? I could go into teaching; though, let's face it, this isn't the kind of face or body that you put behind a desk. It would be a damn shame for me to stand there and preach about economics or psychology when I could be out doing more exciting things with my life.”

Dick fixes his coffee up the way he likes and takes a long sip before he replies to Lewis’s comment. “I wouldn't mind listening to you preach about those kinds of things. I barely passed my AP economics class.”

“I'm sure barely passing for you was having an A minus, right?” Lewis teases.

“Yes.”

That makes Lewis smile. It's small but soft and it makes Dick’s heart pound.

Their food comes quickly and they dig in. Lew moans around a mouthful of flapjacks and syrup and Dick rolls his eyes at him. He snags a handful of fries from his raven haired friend and Lew, in turn, steals a forkful of omelette off his plate. They get to the last few bites of their meals when they're interrupted by a girl sliding into their booth next to Dick.

“Hey Dickie,” she kissed his cheek. “Never thought you’d step foot in here so soon.”

“Alice,” Dick shifts away and Nixon watches them. “This is my friend Lewis Nixon. I met him last summer at West Point.”

She sticks her hand out at him, smiling widely. “Hi, I’m Alice Sinclair. It's so nice to meet you.”

He takes it, giving her a small smile. It's a hard smile, not like the soft one he’d given Dick earlier. “Likewise.”

Alice takes Dick’s fork from his hand and eats the rest of the omelette with a happy hum. “So, what brings you two boys out today?”

Nixon grunts, sipping at his coke. “Dick was going to show me around town.”

“Really? Dick hardly ever leaves the farm in the summer,” Alice comments, her red nails clicking against the water glass. “You must be special.”

“I'm a real charmer,” Nixon replies.

“Lewis is staying with us for the summer before he heads off to Yale,” Dick pushes his finished plate away from him. “Do you want a malt? I want to try one.”

“Sure.”

“You're going to _Yale?”_ Alice gasps. “Even Dick didn't make it into Cornell and he was _Valedictorian_.”

“Alice,” Dick warns and Nixon shifts his gaze out the window.

He remembers the letter Dick had sent. He had been outraged. How could Cornell have turned down _Richard Winters?_ He’d written back telling Dick how stupid Cornell was for declining him and said that Ivy League schools wouldn't know a good investment if it bit them in the ass. The rejection from West Point had hurt Dick even more. He’d called Dick on the phone when he got the letter and his friend had muttered harsh words to him. Nixon didn't know how to react to the words besides to agree with whatever Dick said.

He brushes the murky memories away and fixes his attention on Alice. “Where are you going to college?”

“Penn State, with Dick,” she says. “They've got an excellent law program.”

“So you're going in for pre-law?”

“Yes and then I'll be off to California for actual Law School. It's where I’m from and to be perfectly honest - I can't stand the snow or rain. I will take hot, muggy, California any day.”

“What about you, Dick? You never said what you were majoring in?” Nixon pushes a fry through a pool of ketchup.

“I think I’d like to go into counseling but I don't think I’d be any good at it,” he shrugs.

Alice rolls her green eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, Dick. You talked Patty out of killing himself. You took the swim team and the track team to Nationals - _twice_ \- and you convinced the school board that the amphitheater needed to be renovated.”

“I had help for all of those things.”

“Except with Patty…”

“Who’s Patty?” Nixon asks.

“Patty was this kid in the sophomore class who was… Homosexual and these seniors started to pick on him so everyone else started picking on him - even freshmen,” Alice sips Dick’s water and continues. “Well, one day he brought a gun to school and was going to kill himself in the main hallway - as this big statement and reminder to everyone what bullying can do. He took it out and stood there as people started coming in and Dick - he was one of the first people to come into the school - puts his hands up when he sees Patty and starts talking to him. All of the staff were freaking out and the other kids were so scared that Patty would shoot Dick; everyone was crying. Dick starts to get closer to Patty, taking these hesitant steps and Patty’s crying - he has these huge tears slipping down his cheeks.”

_“It's okay, Patrick, it's okay. You don't have to do this. Let's go talk about it, alright? Just you and me.”_

_“What would you know?” Patrick had sobbed._

_He laughed softly - it's sad and heart-wrenching and he said, “Trust me; I know plenty, Patrick.”_

“I don't know what Dick told him but he started taking these confident steps and pulled the gun away from Patty’s head. He clicked the safety on and handed it off to one of the teachers. He wrapped Patty in this hug and just held him while he cried. They eventually walked Dick and Patty to the principal’s office,” she sighs. “I don't even think you went to class that day.”

“I was with the counselor, policemen, the principal, and Pat for most of the day,” Dick purses his lips. “I took Patrick home afterwards and stayed with him until his parents got back from work.”

“You're a modern day hero,” Nixon comments. “Why didn't you tell me about this?”

Dick shakes his head, fixing his gaze on one of the records. “I didn't think it was something that needed sharing.”

“You saved a kid from killing himself, Dickie.”

Nixon shoves his fries away with a sigh. “I don't think I can handle a malt right now,” he says, changing the subject.

“Me either,” Dick agrees quietly.

Alice touches his arm and Dick tenses slightly before relaxing. “There's a party tonight - over at the Vicnaire warehouse. You and Lewis should come.”

“Maybe.”

Alice looks at Lewis, brow raised, but all she gets is a shrug as a reply.

“Alright then boys, I’ll be going then. Please come out tonight, it's supposed to be a lot of fun.”

“We’ll think about it, Alice.”

“Okay.” She kisses Dick’s cheek and gets up, waving goodbye to the both of them before slipping out the door.

Nixon leans in, studying Dick’s face. “You got so uncomfortable when she touched you. Why don't you just tell her you aren't interested?”

“It's easier - safer - to pretend.”

“Pretend what? Dick, what did you tell Patty?”

“We aren't talking about this here.” Dick got up and went to bar, asking politely for the cheque. He pays and Nixon follows him out the door and to his car.

“Dick, c’mon, what did you tell Patrick?”

“I told him that I knew how he felt.” Dick’s fingers clutch the steering wheel as he stops at a red light.

“To be bullied? Or to be gay?” Lew asks, shifting to watch Dick’s face from behind the safety of his aviators.

“The latter.”

Lewis’s eyes widen behind his aviators. _It's easier - safer - to pretend._ “Oh,” he hums. “So that time I kissed you, you liked it?”

“Does it make a difference if I did?”

“Kind of.”

“Yes, I did, for what little of a kiss it was,” Dick makes a sharp turn and Lew curses.

“Where are we going?”

“Harrisburg.”

Lewis brushes his hair back with his fingers. He sighs and stares out the window. “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“It didn't seem important. Patrick’s life is his life - I didn't feel the need to share that with someone else.”

“I'm not talking about Patrick. I don't care that you didn't tell me about him,” Lewis shakes his head. “I'm talking about you being gay.”

Dick is quiet for a long time. His jaw is clenched and he turns the radio on as they pass the **Now Leaving** sign. He doesn't say anything until the radio starts to crackle with static and forcefully clicks it off. “I didn't tell you that I was gay because I never planned on telling anyone. I can't.”

“Did you tell Patrick?”

“I had to.”

Lew drums his fingers on his thigh. “Okay.”

They drop the subject and don't talk about it. They go to Harrisburg and buy ice cream and walk around the mall there. Lew buys a postcard from a convenience store and writes the date in the back of it and tucks it into his wallet. They drive back to Lancaster and make it home to the farm just before dinner is ready. It's spaghetti and fresh baked bread for dinner with a soft cheesecake for dessert. Both are absolutely to die for. Once they've helped clean up the kitchen table and have snuck back up to Dick’s room, Lew flops down onto his friend’s bed.

“Do you want to go to that party tonight?”

Dick shrugs. “Not really. They smoke a bunch of pot most of the time and then play a game of spin the bottle.”

“Sounds exciting,” Lew sits up on his elbows, watching Dick shut his bedroom window and close his curtains.

“If you're into that kind of stuff,” Dick replies. “Do you want to go?”

“I'm always in the mood for a stoner party.” Lewis blows a strand of hair out of his face. “You ever been high before?”

“No. I don't need drugs to make myself happy, Lew.”

“Well, I think we should go. I'll drive there and you can drive back because I’ll be too fucked.”

“Fine.”

They go back downstairs and tell Dick’s parents that they're going to the movies. Lew quickly herds Dick to his car and they drive off to the Vicnaire warehouse on the outskirts of town. Multiple cars are already parked outside and Nixon grins at Dick as they walk in.

“I'm going to go find Alice,” Dick squeezes his arm and disappears into the crowd.

Nixon loiters against one of the wooden beams, gratefully taking a hit off of some girl’s lipstick stained blunt. He grins lazily at her after he hands it back and she drifts off. Dick returns with Alice. There’s a joint dangling from her fingertips and a happy little smile on her face.

“Lewis! Here, baby, take a drag!” She hands him the joint and drapes herself over Dick, blushing.

Nixon stares at Dick as he takes a drag, licking his lips after the smoke leaves his lungs. Dick averts his gaze and carefully removes himself from Alice, muttering something about water.

“So, you managed to get him to a Vicnaire party,” Alice comments.

“I've got a natural charm about me.”

“Uh huh,” she sing-songs and Nixon hands her the joint back after taking a few more hits.

“Dick said something about spin the bottle?”

“Mhmm,” Alice hums around the end of the blunt. “If you don't kiss the person that the bottle lands on, you have to take a hit from this vintage bong that Todd bought when he was in Colorado. And if we play truth or dare, if you can't finish the dare or if you refuse to tell the truth, you have to take a hit.”

“Sounds fun.”

“What sounds fun?” Dick asks, reappearing with water and a bag of chips. He hands the chips to Alice and takes a swig from the water, which he gives to Lewis.

“Spin the bottle. You gonna play Dickie, or just watch like all the other times?” Alice grins.

“I suppose I’ll play.”

Alice’s eyes grow to a comical size. “Really?”

“Might as well make it a night of firsts,” he mumbles.

Alice lets out a ‘whooping’ sound and runs off, gathering people for spin the bottle. Nixon drags Dick to the circle that's forming. It’s a sizable group but the rest are either too doped up or not interested in playing.

“Since Dickie hasn't ever played before, he has to go first,” Alice announces as she sets the bottle down in the middle of the circle. “If we can't judge who it lands on, the person who spun has to kiss the two people or they can take a hit. No re-spins, okay?”

Dick takes the bottle in his hand and presses it to the floor, flicking his wrist causing the bottle to spin in a quick circle. It slows and lands on a junior girl that Dick doesn’t know. She giggles and crawls over to him, pressing her pink lips against his. It doesn't last long and she’s pulling back, falling into her spot and spinning the bottle.

Nixon gets kissed three times in the next ten turns. Each spin he takes, he declines and takes long hits from a pretty glass bong. He's pleasantly dazed and smiles sloppily at Dick who just hands him a consistently full bottle of water.

Somewhere in the midst of the game, Dick spins again and lands on Patrick Douglas. All the girls in the circle make whooping sounds and cheers as Dick smiled shyly at Patrick. They meet over the bottle, their lips pressing together in a soft kiss. It lasts longer than most of the kisses that either of them have had and when they pull apart, Patrick blushes, shoving Dick away with a gently hand. It rubs Nixon the wrong way and he doesn't know why it does. (He does).

“You want to leave?” Dick whispers into his ear after Nixon takes another spin.

“In a minute,” he mumbles and when the bottle stops, Nixon kisses the girl beside him and gets up, leaving the circle.

Dick smiles at everyone and follows after him. He slips outside and leans against Nixon’s car door, studying his fingernails. The warm air ruffles his hair and he sighs, staring up at the sky.

“Here,” Nixon says, appearing beside him a few minutes later. He hands his car keys over to Dick and gets in the passenger seat.

After Dick slides into the driver’s seat, he buckles himself and Nixon in because suddenly his friend has zoned out and he knows it's a side effect from all the pot he’d smoked earlier. Dick pulls away from the warehouse and down the dirt road back into town, glancing over at Nixon every few hundred feet.

“You alright?” He asks eventually.

“Peachy,” Nixon replies, giggling softly. “Mmm… I bought some pot off of one of the guys there. We should… Smoke it later.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Lew.”

They get back to the farm just after midnight and Dick pushes Lew up the stairs. The latter falls into Dick’s bed, a loose smile on his lips and the usual tension in his shoulders gone. Dick quickly closes his door and toes off his shoes. He removes Nixon’s boots and drops them at the foot of his bed. He crawls in beside him and turns on his side, facing away from Nixon.

“Goodnight Lew…”

“Night…” he answers quietly.

\---

  
**_(June 21, 1999)_**

Dick buckles Lew into the seat, making sure the lock clicked into place. He sits back in the driver’s seat and turns the engine over after buckling himself in and pulls away from the house. Lew hums beside him, tapping his fingers and bobbing his head to an unrecognizable beat.

He glances at the raven’s eyes, still slightly glazed from the pot and alcohol that he had consumed during the party. He focuses on the dark road, fingers tight in the steering wheel. He turns on the radio, speaker pumping with old rock songs and sighs softly under his breath but loud enough for Lewis to hear.

“I don’t get why you come to these parties, Dick,” the raven spits out after the silence drags on for too long. “You don’t wanna get high or drunk.”

“It's for appearances sake and I like to go,” he shrugs. “I like seeing my friends have fun.”

Lew shifts, turning his body toward Dick’s, “You weren't too thrilled about me getting high - or drunk.”

“High _and_ drunk,” Dick corrects. Lew rolls his eyes in the dark.

“Let's stop somewhere,” his raven haired friend suggests, “I'm starving. Chicken sounds good, right?” He considers his words for a moment before saying, “Actually, Chinese food sounds great.”

“I'll make you some rice when we get home.”

“Awesome.”

They reach Dick’s home fifteen minutes later. Lew had watched him drive the rest of the time, his glassy eyes studying his face. The stare unnerved him but he ignored it, barely suppressing the shiver that ran down his spine. They stumble into the dark house and Dick deposits Lew on to the couch, turning on the TV.

“You still want Chinese?” He asks, changing the channel from **Nick@Nite** to **Cartoon Network.**

Lew shakes his head, replying, “No, let's just watch this..”

They squeeze on to the couch together, Lew’s knees to his chest and head tipped back on the cushions. Dick stretches his legs out, propping them on the coffee table. They watch re-runs of _Johnny Bravo_ and switch halfway to **Nick@Nite** because _Everybody Loves Raymond_ is on.

“Dick?”

“Hmm?”

“I wish we could stay like this,” Lew breathes. “Just right here, like this, watching shitty late night TV and-”

“And?”

“Making out,” he turns his head, giving Dick a sly grin. “You wanna?”

“You're high.”

Lew chuckles, “Not really. I had maybe two, three hits. That's nothing compared to my usual.”

Dick shakes his head and the couch dips as Lew slides into his lap. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna kiss you,” he mumbles, brushing his mouth against Dick’s. The redhead lets out a soft gasp, his mouth going slack. Lew grips the front of his shirt and Dick’s hands twitch at his sides. They break apart, Lew resting his head on the other’s shoulder with a soft sigh. “You have no idea how long I've waited to do that.”

Dick swallows audibly and says, “I can probably guess.”

Lew slides out of his lap and switches off the television. He grabs Dick’s hand and they head upstairs, slipping under the sheets of Dick’s bed. They don't touch or kiss; they fall asleep, their hearts beating in rhythm.

\---

**_(June 28, 1999)_ **

Lew crowds Dick against a thick line of cherry trees, the both of them laughing softly. Lew stares up at him and cups Dick’s face.

“Remember what I wrote you… That one line letter?” He whispers and Dick nods. “I’m going to kiss you, Dick.”

Dick’s breath hitches as Lewis kisses him.His friend’s fingers slide into his red hair and he hugs Lew to his chest. His back rubs against the tree and they stay pressed against one another until the sun starts to disappear.

\---

**_(July 4,1999)_ **

Lew rolls over in Dick’s bed, wrapping his arms around the redhead next to him. He sighs, kissing the back of his neck gently and Dick stirs, a sleepy hum of approval. He leans back into Lew’s chest, his hand finding the raven’s.

“Morning…” He whispers, his voice hoarse from sleep and Lew smiles against his skin.

“..morning Dick…” He kisses his jaw and sits up on his elbow, looking down at the redhead.

“Kiss me again?”

Lew nods and they kiss softly. Dick chuckles and wraps his freckled arms around Lew’s neck, pulling him closer. The raven grabs the thin sheet that's pooled around Dick’s waist and tugs it up and over them as he settled himself above the redhead, their cocks dragging against each other.

  
\---

**_(August 26, 1999)_ **

“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Nix shakes Dick’s parents hands, smiling at them. “You've been so kind and so willing to put up with my… Craziness.”

They laughed and Mary pulled Nixon into a tight hug, whispering in his ear to come back soon and that they loved having him over. Mary kissed his cheeks and released him. “Goodbye Lewis,” she sighs and she and her husband retreat into the house, leaving Dick and Nixon to themselves.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?” Nixon teases gently, a soft look in his dark eyes.

“You wish,” replies Dick, clapping his friend on the back.

“Yeah, guess so,” he chuckles weakly as they walk to Nixon’s car, parked close to the fruitless orchards of the Winters’ farms. Their hands brush together as they walk.

“You’ll write, won't you?” Dick asks, twisting his fingers around a loose thread on his jacket.

“Of course. I'll probably email. You have one of those right?”

“I'll get one.”

Nixon knocks him with his elbow, making Dick look at him with his brow raised. “You should come to Jersey for New Year’s. It’d be fun.”

“I'll have to think about it.”

“Sure,” Nixon sticks his hand out and Dick shakes it. “See you around?”

“Yeah.”

Nixon looks down and then back up. The wind ruffles their hair and Dick pulls his jacket tighter to his body, avoiding Nixon’s dark eyes. The silence between them lengthens as the trees shake above their heads, leaves raining down on them. Time stretches on and Dick finally finds the courage to look at Nixon, the swallow he makes is loud in his ears.

“I-” he starts but is cut off by Lew pressing their mouths together in a deep kiss. Dick’s hands find the lapels of Lew’s flannel, gripping the soft fabric. Their lips drag across each other and the three day stubble on Lew’s face scratches pleasantly. He loves the feeling on it. Dick moans and Lew laughs, pulling back to press a kiss to his chin.

“I'll see you, Winters.” He winks and walks backwards to his car door.

“Not if I see you first, Nixon.”

He gets a grin in return and Nixon slides into his car, starting it up in a quick motion. He waves lightly to Dick and turns down the dirt path that cuts through the orchards. Dick watches the tail lights until they disappear between the growing shadows and the twist of the dirt road.

 

* * *

  
**_(September 2001)_**

_Nixon showed up at his apartment late at night on September 10th, cheeks flushed from drink and a wide grin on his face. “Dick, Dick, you’ll never believe what I just did,” he slurred, wrapping his arms lazily around his best friend._

_Dick shrugged out of the sloppy hug. “What did you do, Lew?” He asked. It's not unusual for Nixon to show up - uninvited - to his apartment. What's unusual about this particular visit is that Nixon is already sloshed. (He likes to get hammered at Dick’s apartment where he can make an ass of himself in front of the only person who won’t judge him for it)._

“I asked Kathy to marry me,” _he said._

\---

Dick finishes buttoning his shirt, the news reporting on the weather. He's so late to work. Beyond late. Fire worthy late. He glares at Lew who’s busying himself with making coffee, pointedly looking anywhere but Dick to avoid getting a dose of the redhead’s evil eye. He quickly threads his belt through its loops and throws his tie over his neck. The coffee machine clicks off and Lew pours a cup for himself and fills a thermos for Dick, setting it down on the counter next to his keys.

_“I'm guessing she said yes,” Dick replied._

_“Fuck yeah, she said yes! Dick, I'm so happy,” Nixon beamed, “I finally found the one.”_

Dick squeezes his eyes shut, breathing out hard through his nose. He knew he shouldn't have let himself fall in love with Lew. He can’t believe how stupid he was to think someone like Lewis Nixon would love him. He knots his tie wrong and undoes it as Lew sits on the edge of the couch.

“Hey… Where did you put the remote?”

“Top of the TV,” he sighs.

Lew grabs it and turns the volume up, bringing his coffee mug to his lips. Dick’s staring up at the ceiling as he fixes his tie. He presses it down against this torso and is turning away to grab his keys and thermos when Lew calls his name.

It's strangled and foreign, the sound of the coffee mug shattering against the hardwood floor has Dick turning on his heel and rushing to the couch, stopping dead in his tracks as he watches the one of Twin Towers collapse in a cloud of fire and smoke.

“Holy shit,” he breathes as he rounds the couch, dropping down next to Lew.

They watch the second Tower crumble in on itself.

Somewhere, between the first and the second, Lew’s hand covers Dick’s and squeezes it.

Dick doesn't go to work that day or the next or the next. He doesn’t go to work for a week and he gets fired. He signs up for the Army Reserves and Lew signs up alongside him.

 

* * *

  
**_(August 2003)_ **

  
Dick cracks his neck tiredly. He wishes they would get on with the ceremony. He sighs under his breath and adjusts his tie. He watches the rest of the guests take their seats as the sky rumbles above them. Dick glances upwards at the clouds, dark grey and ominous.

“Hell of a day for a wedding,” Nixon comments from beside him.

“Kathy picked the day, didn't she?”

“Mother wanted September but Kathy said an August wedding meant more sun and less gloom,” Nixon shrugs his shoulders, producing a flask from his pocket and taking a sharp swig.

“It's not happy hour yet, Nix.”

“Every hour is happy hour when you're dealing with my family.”

Dick doesn't say anything in reply and focuses his attention straight ahead. The bridesmaids are coming up and standing beside them. Dick smiles softly at Alice as she loops their arms. Kathy had been nice enough to make her a bridesmaid. She kisses his cheek and pats his hand. (She’s been so understanding)

_“So… You're telling me that you like boys?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Alice’s brows furrowed. “Are you serious?”_

_“Yeah, Alice, I’m serious.”_

The music starts, a soft piano tune and they began walking up the aisle. Alice squeezes Dick’s arm in comfort and he reigns in his emotions, forcing his features to look calm. He parts from Alice at the makeshift altar and stands to his side. Lew comes up with his mother, kisses her cheek and stands next to Dick, watching as Kathy is brought up by her father.

Dick smiles tightly at Nixon as he hands off the rings. He doesn’t smile when they kiss but gives the photographer his best smile even though Nixon’s touch on his shoulder makes his stomach churn. (He hates this).

The thunder booms above them as they rush to the ballroom of the hotel that the Nixons’ had rented out for the reception. Dick and Alice seat themselves immediately and don’t get up until they're asked for pictures.

Dick delivers a semi-heartfelt speech to the occupants, ghosting over the true extent of his and Nixon’s relationship and wishing the couple a long and happy life. Everyone claps and Nixon kisses Kathy’s cheek, grinning at her. Dick wishes them another sentiment as he exits the stage. (He barely keeps himself from spitting the words out).

Alice touches his hand, smiling sadly at him. “Dickie, we can leave if you want.”

“I’m fine,” he answers.

She sighs and shakes her head, getting up. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want a Shirley Temple?”

“Virgin daiquiri,” Dick catches her wrist, squeezing it gently. “Strawberry.”

_“I still love you,” Alice said, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ll always love you, Richard.”_

_“Thank you,” he sobbed into her shoulder and she rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. He cried into her blouse and she fed him a shot of whiskey to put him to sleep. Alice stroked his hair back and when he woke up in the morning, she was asleep beside him, their fingers twined together._

_She loved him._

They stay for another hour and dance pressed close to one another. Alice mumbles to him about memories of their senior prom, her cheeks red from the glasses of wine and champagne that she’d consumed. Dick has his arm wrapped securely around her waist and he loves her, he really does - he just never loved her the way she loved him. Alice sniffs softly and her thumbs rub at the nape of his neck.

“I want to go home,” she whispers.

“After they throw the bouquet,” Dick promises.

Alice slips away to the restroom and comes back just as the single women gather around behind Kathy. Alice drifts in the back. She's one of the tallest women there, standing at five foot ten. Kathy laughs boisterously, tossing the wild flower bouquet behind her. She tips forward as she tries to turn around, giggling drunkenly. Nix catches her, laughing and the women cheer and clap as Alice emerges from the fray with the bouquet clutched in her hand.

Dick hugs her, kissing her forehead. He can hear Alice sniffing and pawing at his jacket. He runs his hands over her back because he can’t do anything else. Alice pulls back far enough to wipe her eyes and smiles up at him. A flash goes off in the corner of Dick’s eye and he sighs, casting a glare at the photographer who scurries away as Nix claps him on the back.

“Congratulations, Alice,” he grins and he smells heavily of whiskey. It makes Dick’s stomach churn.

“Thank you,” She responds, stroking her hands down Dick’s chest, her delicate fingers smoothing out wrinkles.

Nix squeezes his shoulder. “The garter toss is next. You better catch it, Dick.”

“I’ll try.” And when Nix smiles at him, all soft and drunken like, the bitterness from earlier having faded from his eyes - it makes Dick’s heart flutter. (Damn him).

The single men gather together as Kathy sits in chair, with Nix standing across from her, a smirk on his lips. He's determined. Dick stands in the middle of the crowd, feeling out of place and he really is. He doesn't fit in this crowd of single Yale graduates and frat boys. These men who don’t even know who Lewis Nixon really is. Maybe Dick doesn’t really know him either but he certainly knows more than the Yale alumni around him.

Nix finds himself under Kathy’s dress, tugging the garter down with his teeth as the bachelors cheer loudly. He emerges victorious, garter held between his teeth. He winks at Kathy and stands, grinning at the cheers. His eyes catch Dick’s.

The redhead looks disapproving. Nixon can’t fathom why. (He can). He licks his lips and throws the garter over his shoulder and when he turns back around, Dick’s holding the garter over his head, the silk and elastic fabric held tightly between his fingers. A sickening feeling develops in his stomach but he forces the odd sensation of his mind as he approaches his redheaded friend.

“You did it.”

“I said I would try,” Dick replies cooly. He's so uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “Alice and I… We’re going to head home.”

“Home? I've rented out rooms for the wedding party.”

Dick makes a frustrated noise and says, “I really need to go home.”

“Why?” Nix asks. “Dick, the party’s just started and I know you drank a little. I know Alice did too. It's getting late. You can’t leave yet.”

“Nix, I - We need to go home. Back to Lancaster.”

A camera flashes and Dick shakes his head tiredly, turning on his heel, trying to flee. He grabs his suit jacket and Alice’s handbag, heading for the entrance of the ballroom. He spots Alice with Kathy as the latter slices off a large portion of wedding cake. Alice has a full bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm. He hopes it’s expensive.

“Dick, just, come on…!” Nix calls as he exits the ballroom, heading straight for the front doors of the hotel.

Dick hands the valet his ticket, still clutching the garter between his fingers. He stares down his fist, the silk strangling his fingers and he feels so sick. He's so fucking sick of this. Of Nix. Of the East Coast. Of being so fucking messed up. He just wants this all to go away. He wants to leave.

“Dick!” Nix yells and comes to a stop beside him, hand curling itself in sleeve. “Come on, Dick. Don’t leave yet.”

“I'm tired, Nix. I want to go home and so does Alice.” He doesn't look at him. If he looks at him, he’ll crumble.

Nix’s hold loosens. “I don't understand why you just won't stay here. I got a room for you and Alice, Dick. I thought you’d like some… Time, alone, with her.”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” He snaps. “Besides to go home.”

I want you to realize how much this hurt me.

Dick inhales deeply, closing his eyes. He opens them slowly, staring at the ground. “Lew, I don't… I can’t do this. I can’t stand here and pretend that this is okay. It's not. It really isn't okay, Nix.”

“Why isn't it okay?” Nix presses.

“Because you know how I feel.”

Nix stares at him and Dick throws the garter back at him. “Dick…” He murmurs watching the redhead close in on himself. “Please, you don’t… You don’t understand.” He steps toward him and his hand hovers over Dick’s shoulder, like he wants to cup the back of his neck, to pull him down into a kiss. He drops it, looking down at his shoes. “I can’t… Be like _that_. Be like you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he asks, voice cracking, and he's close to crumbling. So close to breaking down and sobbing right there in front of the hotel. He can feel the burn of tears behind his eyes and the lump forming in the back of throat makes it hard to breathe.

Nix is quiet for a few beats, the valet reappearing with his friend’s car. “Can’t,” he answers, meeting Dick’s eyes and he knows he’s made a mistake. Looking at him because the raw emotion in his blue eyes is so intense that it takes Nix aback. He swallows. The hotel door opens, Alice taking Dick’s arm.

Dick nods sharply. “Thank you, Nix. I hope you and Kathy are happy together.” He opens Alice’s door for her and closes it, rounding the vehicle to get in the driver’s side.

Nix shoves his hands in his pockets, an empty feeling settling deep in the pit of his stomach.

 


End file.
